Want
by Gater101
Summary: OneShot. But that's not the part he wants...


Title: Want  
Summary: That's not the part he wants; not yet.  
Characters: John & Teyla  
Pairing: John/Teyla  
Rating: M  
Context: Either post-Vengeance, or post-season 4

He levelled her with a stare heavy lidded with desire and she felt a coil tighten in her gut. He took a step towards her, his gait steady and sure despite the alcohol she'd witnessed him consume. He looked fierce and passionate, needy and wanting all at once and she felt her knees weaken despite her schooling. She'd seen him like this, once before but it had not been him. This was. She took a breath as she felt her back meet with that of others in the crowd and she willed them away. People moved in and out of her vision, across it but somehow his eyes never left hers.

She gasped when his finger touched her arm before they were separated again by another party-goer and her body missed his contact instantly. She was heated with desire, yearning for his touch and she did not understand it; she had felt nothing like this before and yet she found it far from un-enjoyable. His eyes sent waves of desire piping through her veins, to her very core and she was so very sure that if he did not take her soon she may very well burst into flames.

A cool blast of air hit her as she stepped out onto a balcony scattered with people she paid no mind to; the Intullians would not be offended, she hoped, by her lack of courtesy. She felt the hard brick of the waist high wall meet her back and she almost whimpered when he stopped his stalking at the threshold. He leaned his shoulder against the open door, lowered her head and devoured her with his eyes. She could feel his stare almost as though it was his hands and she arched her back as he skimmed her breasts, his eyes lingering like his imaginary fingers; her hips jerked slightly when his molten gaze landed on them and this time she gasped hotly into the cool air, her breath appearing before her eyes.

She could feel her nipples puckering beneath her thin dress and she ached for his touch. There was an emptiness inside of her that needed to be filled by him and him alone and she craved it; oh how she craved it. When she opened her eyes again, his gaze was on her parted lips and she wet them, her tongue peeking over the edge and she could see his restraint snap, heard his growl from across the landing.

He tugged her down the steps and thrust her sharply under them into the darkness. She let out a moan of appreciation when his hard body pressed her into the wall, his hips rocking into hers, alerting to his own palpable desire. She ground her groin into his, wishing that their clothing would disappear at a whim but it did not. She stared up at him, his hazel eyes almost black with unhindered desire and she felt herself weaken even more, warmer than she'd ever been in her life.

She gasped when his fingers skimmed her taut nipples, throwing her head back for him to devour with a skilled mouth. She couldn't help the cries of desire the feel of his lips elicited from her and she could feel his own insistence in the way he gripped her hip in one hand, the other rising to cup her breasts, toy with her nipple.

"_Teyla..." _He ground out past gritted teeth, his breath hot on her neck, the words vibrating to her very core.

"There is..." she started but paused midway when his fingers dipped beneath the barrier of her dress and tugged on her nipple, his lips quickly following in their tracks. She panted as he lavished her, his 

tongue doing things to her body she could never have imagined. She held him in place, her back arching of its own accord into his touch and she could feel him smile. "John..." she managed as she tugged him back up, her eyes meeting his desirous stare. "You know there is a part of me I cannot give to you..."

He studied her for a moment, his eyes raking over her face and she saw the indecision in his eyes and she feared it. She did not want him to stop. She needed this; they needed this. Ever since Michael had taken her, she'd felt the palpable need to be joined with him; could taste his desire for her too. She needed to know she was alive; he needed to know he was alive.

He wrapped his hands in her hair and made her look at him, his stare still as heavy though there was something else laced with the desire; something she could not describe.

"Right now," she lowered her lids when his breath warmed her face, her head gravitating towards his. "That's not the part I want," he said fervently and pulled her lips to his for a searing kiss that scorched through her body. She felt his groan vibrate through her as hers did the same to him.

His hands slid down her back as hers slid to his waist band. The suit trousers he wore she had never seen before and she guessed she'd never see them again but he did look like the perfect specimen in them. His legs seemed elongated in their black length, his waist looked neat and trim in the jacket he wore to match, the crisp white shirt that hung open at the neck had her body responding in ways she'd never dreamed of.

The wall was hard against her back when she hooked her legs around his hips, and she rocked back and forth on his waist, urging him into her. She groaned loudly when he paused, his finger stilling it's movements against her slick wetness. She opened her eyes again and raised her head so she level with his face, her eyes staring into his. He looked ridiculously rumpled, his shirt collar sticking up on one side, his hair dishevelled where her fingers had run through it; his lips were as swollen as hers felt and his breaths were laboured, barely controlled like the desire she could feel and see.

"Why are you stopping?" She asked coyly, her fingers toying with the hair at the back of his neck and she saw the almost tiny roll of his eyes at the sensation.

"I don't know why now..." He slid into her a little, his blunt tip only partially inside of her and they both groaned and he dropped his forehead to hers, his eyes sliding shut. "But I can't stop thinking about you..." He dropped a kiss to her lips, feather light in its brevity. "I can't not _touch _you." He slid his hands up the side of her body, his eyes following their movement before they slid back down to her hips again. She whimpered and tried to slide him further into her but he was resilient. "You make me feel alive..." His lips descended onto her throat again, sucking at her pulse point and she let out a loud moan of appreciation when his teeth dug harshly into her skin. She wanted him to brand her. "Being inside of you reminds me that we're alive."

"You are not inside of me yet..." she murmured and he met her eyes, his lips curling into a self satisfied smirk.

"No..." He murmured, his fingers drawing a yelp from her as he pinched her nipple. "Not yet..." He drew a lazy circle on her back, his fingers slowly meandering down to her hips and she tried not to impale herself on him. They would do this his way because she wanted it that way too. She trained her eyes on his lips as his top teeth gripped his lower lip between them and mimicked the gesture.

His powerful thrust sent dizzying sensations coursing through her body as colours flashed in front of her eyes. They both groaned, loudly, neither caring that guests were wandering in the gardens only a few feet away; neither caring that their team were up in the main hall probably looking for them. He felt so very, very good embedded so deeply within her and she tried so very hard to keep as still as him. It was difficult. Extremely difficult and she sighed happily, almost chanting his name when he did start moving within her. He moved slowly at first, rhythmically and she copied him, matching him, thrusting as much as she could down on him as he pressed her into the wall behind them, one hand bracing him against it as his thrusts became harder, more insistent.

The spring that had been wound up for nigh on five years grew tighter and tighter and she knew that it would not be long before it sprung apart and she came hard upon him. She knew that being with him would be like this; spectacular, passionate, needy. She was glad it was like this; this was so very them.

She could feel herself fluttering around him as he murmured words into her ear, her name a prayer falling from his lips, his too and she gripped his shoulders tightly in their heated embrace as he pistoned in and out, in and out until both of them were driven to the edge and more, further, their names called out into the night air around them as they climaxed, one the catalyst for the other though neither could say who was first. He continued to move as the last sensations of her orgasm waved through her, their lips seeking refuge on necks, shoulders, arms – anywhere they could reach. She was breathless, sated, tired as she clung to him, her legs refusing to unlock from around his waist.

He drew back slightly, his hand clumsily brushing awry locks from her face back behind her ears and she knew that others would know what they had done. He was sweaty, the lascivious look still not completely wiped from his face. His forehead against hers was clammy, his hair sticking to hers, his lips slow and almost chaste against hers.

"We're okay..." he murmured, more to himself than her and she lifted a weighty arm to brush her fingers over his cheek in a gentle stroke.

"We are alive," she promised him with a quiet voice and sedate smile.

Their kiss was slow and full of emotions neither were willing to admit. His hands on her body were languorous and fuelled by residual desire, stoking at a kindling flame.

As they moved together again, not quite making love she knew there was still a part of her she was not ready yet to give him, or he to her.

And like him, it was not the part she wanted. Not yet, anyway.


End file.
